


In the End

by wavetothewaves



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Apocalypse, Bisexual, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, British Men of Letters (Supernatural) Being Assholes, Destiel - Freeform, Gay Love, Hand Jobs, Love, M/M, after 15x13, angel - Freeform, angel of time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wavetothewaves/pseuds/wavetothewaves
Summary: Nearing the end of March and the Winchester’s are all looking for God himself.As they hover around aimlessly in the kitchen racking their brains together for a plan on how to stop the end of the world and defeat God Castiel finally picks something up on Angel radio. But this thing takes Cas and Dean all the way to England... just in time for a strange virus causing a worldwide pandemic.As the days drag on Cas and Dean soon realise the motorways are a whole lot quieter and the people around the country are disappearing, overnight.Maybe the end of the world was a whole lot closer and this was Gods plan all along, to separate the brothers and destroy.In desperate attempt to reach Sam and Jack they finally come to the conclusion that maybe they’ve disappeared too. And that Cas and Dean are quite literally the last two beings on Earth, but what will they do?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 2





	1. Not your typical apocalypse

This is possibly the only good thing about the apocalypse if you ask me, that it was honestly beautiful.

And not your typical Hollywood movie apocalypse scene with the collapsed buildings, overturned cars, the aberrant tumbleweed rolling down the city streets and of course your flesh eating zombies limping their way over to the camera. Not like it was expected when Zeke threw me into the future over 10 years ago.

This was different. This was more realistic. No effects, no jokes, just unfortunately life. 

Honestly nothing too bizarre of how it started, just your typical strain of virus from the common cold really. Yet from several billion fantaisies of how Earth would annihilate mankind no one honestly thought it would be this dull and boring. 

The outcome of it was ironically like our bodies finally thriving again after getting ride of that horrible flu you’ve been under for 3 weeks, you can finally breath fresh air again, not relying of the scented air humidifiers. Your body is no longer achey and you’ve survived a full 8 hours of sleep without breaking a sweat and coughing your guts up every 10minutes of the night. How I see it mankind is Earth’s virus and this is how she got rid of us, we started off small and light however turned into a massive parasite, a strain, we had brought her down but she finally fought back, blighting the virus of mankind, she could blossom again; and oh how she blossomed. 

Flowers bloomed against sidewalks, trees flourished, every single: lake, pond, stream, river, heck even the sea turned a crystal blue, glistening against the sunbeams. You’d barely noticed the cars now drowning underneath the forestation of the oaks that have grown madly, almost suffocation every surface they can lay their roots into. Ivy clings onto buildings, snaking up their solid walls, that the rain hasn’t had the chance to corrode any yet. 

The slight wind howls through the abandoned playground, pushing the swings to a small squeak. It’s strange not seeing a soul play. 

I used to joke to him standing aside of me before everyone disappeared, literally in the first couple of weeks of the first viruses outbreak. I remembered the month beforehand rumours of the Third World War were looming and I had said The Four Horseman have arisen once more and walked out of the Gates of Hell. 

But War never did ride through.

And how could Pestilence gallop past and leave such a disease lingering that it’s final result creates something as beautiful as this? 

And if this is the actual apocalypse, where was Famine? 

And why did Death take everyone without us seeing a single body or soul leave? Why didn’t she take us? 

I walk; my hand clings to my love, almost dragging him in awe of the place slightly, not daring to release him incase he too disappears from my clutches. 

I think back to before this all began, the start of the end. 

And I know he’s thinking the same as me.

**6 months earlier**

Jack’s soul is back. And Dean, well Dean for the first time in a long time felt a feeling for the kid that he hasn’t felt since Chuck, since Belphegor, since  _the reason._

He almost felt bad for him.

Sam had gone and sat next to Jack, trying to calm him down, give him some bullshit reason to make everything feel okay again. Cas was aside Dean, and although he was just standing at the same point, staring in Jacks direction, not looking up, eyebrows furrowed, face unreadable, Dean still knew Cas was looking at  _him_. 

His brother had given him a beer as he had grabbed himself one before setting down on the table, Dean hadn’t even realised he’d taken it from him, he was too focused on what to think of the fact the kid crying in front of them, the one that had killed his mother,  _again_ ,  had received his soul back. 

Sam, giving Dean flashes of looks, as if to say ‘let him know it’s okay’, but does he want to? 

He feels Cas step closer, into his space, Dean feels easier. He knows Cas doesn’t mean anything of it, he’s an Angel after all, an awkward one at that— he’s never gotten personal space at all since the many years they’ve known the blue eyed Angel of the Lord, especially around Dean.

It kind of gives a whole meaning to Angel on your shoulder, he’s the Winchester’s guardian angel, always has been, always will be. Dean has always found it comforting and he admits, he has found to let his guard down in different ways around Cas, secretly, he always liked how close Cas would get, never knowing why other than it made him feel a whole lot safer. 

Like a natural instinct Dean side leans into Cas, releasing a tense breath he’d been holding in. Without thinking he crooks his head towards his best friend, staring into the river like eyes looking back at him. Cas tilts his head as Dean purses his lips, he lazily looks down before Cas flashes a glance between him and then to Jack, Sam wasn’t the only one that wanted Dean to talk to the kid. 

They hold their gaze for a few seconds more, something again that almost feels normal to Dean with Castiel. He doesn’t truly know why yet guesses it has something to do with that Cas is trying to read Dean beyond his soul, baring in mind that all Cas really sees when he looks at Dean is what is truly inside of him. 

In a moment he hears his brother clear his throat, he breaks the contact and snaps towards Sam, Jack has stopped whimpering and now too looks up at his two father figures, innocently. 

Dean reluctantly gives in, looks back at Cas for a split second, rolls his eyes then moves over to sit opposite Jack. Pettily turning his body more towards Sam than Jack.

Yet he looks into the young boys eyes in front of him.

Still only seeing black holes from the demon that had possessed him not that long ago. Or the yellow eyes filled with power and control and rage that caused his mother to once again be killed an unfair death before her time, just when he had finally got her back. 

But for a second, a hint, a moment, he sees the blue eyed boy staring back him him, worry and approval showering across his face. The young nephlim that his very own mother had tried to protect and had wanted to prove to be good, that Cas had had tried to protect and had  _proved_ to be good. 

Dean glances back towards Cas, a half smile lingering on his lips, Cas had fought for him, protected him, taught him and had tried with him even when all seemed lost. If Cas could do it, surely he could finally forgive the kid?

He exhales, looking back towards the blue eyed boy, ironically enough that could quite easily pass as his and Cas’ love child due to the mix of similar features and if it were possible. 

He smiles shortly. “Jack—“ Dean starts before a sudden groan stops him in his sentence. 

Cas clutches his head causing Sam and Jack to act fast striding to his attention. 

Cas crashes down the same time the beer in Dean hand now drains all over the table causing Dean to curse out loud as it spills all down his pants. 

Sam shoots him a stern look, as if also telling him to come help their angel. 

“I’m fine.” Can grunts, obviously not fine, his eyes pinches shout, back hunched, knees collapsed, dug into the floor, hands grasped into his dark brown hair. “It’s— it’s Angel Radio..” 

“Wow, seriously? What are they saying?” Sam asks as he hooks Cas’ arm around his own shoulders to help lift him up. 

Dean at the same time, whispering, “okay, buddy, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, sunshine.” As he mimics his brother helping Cas over to the table, Jack pulling the bench out to help him sit. 

“It’s loud. I can’t quite understand what’s being said.” Cas says. 

Sam sits next to Cas, body facing him, legs span either side of the bench as Jack sits opposite the Angel. Dean without truly realising, still has a hand on Cas’ back. 

“Can you hear anything, Jack?” Sam asks, to which Jack shakes his head no.

It feels silent for a moment in the bunker. 

Yet for Castiel it feels as if a hundred different sirens are playing at once, that someone is messing with a pitch modifier, that a room filled of people, screaming and that glass is shattering all at once. Too loud. 

“C’mon, Cas, anything?” Dean impatiently says.

Cas groans, rubbing his temples, “Dean, can you shut up?!” 

Sam fights back a chuckle, that fact it’ll never get old of how they bicker like an old married couple. 

“Wait.” Cas snaps up, like something switches his on. 

Jack and Sam share a confused look as Dean slowly removes his hand from the dirty trench-coat. 

He sidesteps closer to stand behind Jack, looking towards Cas.

His eyes glow the bright blue, spirals and stars float around the middle like a sea of power radiating energy around the room and Dean can’t help but feel mesmerised by looking into his angel eyes. 

“Remph.” The name forces it’s way out of Castiel’s mouth. 

“What?” Dean bluntly snaps.

Cas’s eyes return back the crystal blue they usually are, he slouches and Dean fights the urge to move over there to check he’s okay. 

“Um, I thought he was a myth. Just an Angel’s bedtime story you may say.” Cas starts.

“Who is he?” Sam curiously asks. 

“Well you know how they say before _Time_ there was God and Amara, the Lightness and the Darkness, there was Death and there was Life. The balance of these four beings had created Time itself. A true equal balance, of what lives must die, what is night must become day, everything runs out of time eventually. See my brothers had told me that if we don’t obey that the Angel of Time himself would come to collect us and take us to the Empty whenever he pleased, bring our time to a halt early, a punishment for being disobedient, kind of like a fear tactic, about staying inline, so we wouldn’t die basically.”

“Yeah then you met us, and well dying became.. normal.”

“Exactly. But no one had ever seen him let alone heard any stories about him other than that. Not even our superiors. Not even the Archangels. We had just put him down to be a power, what was and what will be, a little bit of all of us due to what we can do with time itself.” 

“So what are the Angels saying about him?”

“Not  _Angels_.  Him. He’s real. He’s alive.” Cas states. “But he’s hurt, and he’s calling out, to who ever is listening.”

“But there’s not many of you left, so who’s getting this?”

“Probably not many of us. The signal fought to get through, he’s weak. He was screaming but failing. Somethings not right. I have to find out what’s going on.” 

“Do you reckon it’s God related?” 

“I have no idea. Most likely. He’s a powerful being and if he’s on Earth that could mean there’s an imbalance or something is about to happen.” 

“Cas, can you track the signal? Do you have any idea where it came from?”

“I can hold onto it, as long as he’s crying for help I can find him.” Cas closes his eyes trying to concentrate, burying deep into the signal. “He’s on Earth. But not this country.”

“Great, so what country?” Dean chimes in. 

“England.” Cas answers.

“England? Anything to do with the British Men of Letters do you reckon?” Sam asks.

“Could be. There’s warding close, it’s hard to understand him but he’s in distress. I have to help him.”

“Of course, Cas, we understand.”

“Yeah, well what do you want us to do?” Dean crosses his arms, putting him into the rescue.

Cas opens his eyes and looks up at Dean. “Come with me to England.”

“Done.” Dean says quicker than anyone expects.

“Dean, woah hold on a sec-“ Sam starts, panicky a little.

“Cas needs our help, don’t you think we owe him that?” Dean says abruptly.

“Yeah I understand that, I do, I also think it’s a good idea, it could get us a step closer to God and if this Angel or being or whatever he is is as powerful as Cas says we could ally him against God.” Sam states.

“What’s the wait then?”

“ _England_ , Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“You’d have to fly.” Sam says, slowly, waiting for the realisation to hit. “Cas doesn’t have wings, you’d have to fly on a plane.” 


	2. I’ll go fly with you

The airport crowded, people amongst people amongst people bash, crash and push into one another. Everyone seems in a panic, more than usually, that is. Almost as if they have somewhere to be and they needed to be there yesterday otherwise their life depended on it. 

Sam has dropped Dean and Cas off at the airport, more than two hours before their flight, he said it would give Dean time to chill and calm his nerves as he pointed him to the direction of the bar. Dean had rolled his eyes as Cas had picked up his small carry-on— he’d always known how to travel light even though he didn’t know how long they’d actually be there; he’d hope not long. 

He had argued with Sam that being at the airport two hours before their flight wasn’t necessary and that he could have helped with the research some more. Sam had insisted that he and Jack were on it and that they’d meet them in England as soon as they found something in the Lore about the Angel of Time or if anything important had popped up about the whole God situation. Sam wanted Jack to have the chance of being alone and to have his space without too much excitement, he’d believed that being around Dean Jack would feel pressured or too nervous around the man. 

Truth be told not Dean was not the only one nervous about being around the other, not knowing where to put himself, how to act, but he was also nervous about flying and he had thought being there earlier would wind him up with nothing settling him. However something about being alone with Cas for over 12hours travelling on a plane then a train then a car makes his stomach flip. Almost afraid that what he truly wants to say will be spilled, that Purgatory will be brought up or worse— that nothing will be said at all.

Dean was pissed due to the fact he had to watch Baby drive away without him, but even more pissed that it was Sam driving it honestly, he had wanted nothing more to drive her through this long journey instead of taking the public way. 

When he drove Baby it was pure bliss. The quiet hum of her engine or her roar as she pulled away. His favourite tracks blasting full volume, burning his ears yet barely making a whisper in the midst of the winding road ahead. No one for miles, just him and his baby brother, with of course occasionally Cas and Jack too. 

Yet with the planes, trains, buses, taxis etc the sweet sounds of an old, wise engine was replaced by the grunts and groans of the overworked ones, his music replaced by voices chattering away, rumours spreading, gossip slipping, speak of a Third World War, a flu like virus spreading globally and a tone of shit about celebrities he couldn’t give a toss about. And with the winding empty roads, well, filled with miles of traffic stuck to a stand still. 

Due to them having time to spare Dean did in fact head into the bar. It was early morning but Dean didn’t care, he dragged Cas in there anyway, after everything that had happened the past couple of months Dean didn’t feel as comfortable when he couldn’t see him, something about the almost running out of time in Purgatory, with almost losing him.. again. 

Cas didn’t put up a fight, just went along with it, he’d always go with Dean. 

Truth be told Cas was actually worried if he took his eyes off Dean for even a moment he’d be gone. Maybe  _that_ had something to do with Dean constantly running, pushing the irrational fears to the back of his mind and not addressing them at all. He wanted Dean by his side in this mission honestly, so of course he didn’t want to let Dean go, in fear he’d run once again. 

After Dean had a few sips on courage they had picked up some breakfast muffins to go, Dean of course saving  _Cas’s_ for later. To which Cas doesn’t even think now, he just gives the food the waiter gave to him straight over the other man. 

They wander around the airport, Dean always leading, the Angel that had lead armies now follows the righteous man aimlessly. 

Dean every now and again would pick up small, stupid gifts in the shops scattered around, spinning back to show Cas, a childish grin splashed across his face, giggling. 

Cas occasionally would roll his eyes, but once Deans back turned, a fond smile would play on his lips, he likes seeing Dean like this, carefree, content; it’s pretty rare now days. 

A voice announcement sounds addressing their departure is soon and to head to where their gate is. 

Dean turns to Cas, lifts the side of his trench-coat to reach into the inside of his pocket. He grabs out their tickets and passport. It was amazing how quickly they managed to get fake passports for both of them. 

Dean pats and smooths Cas’s coat down and grins at him, mouthing ‘lets go’. Cas’ face pictured the same throughout, he never did understand why Dean used to get worked up about ‘personal space’ when he’d do stuff like this. 

They make their way to the gate, show the stewardess their tickets and passport once more. Her body language picks up the moment she sees Dean. She pushes a wandering hair behind her ear and smiles fondly at him. She’s young, mid 20’s, bright blonde hair with a face full of makeup covering a naturally pretty face. Despite her best efforts to make conversation with Dean and get him to react with her he doesn’t say much, not seeming interested whatsoever.

Cas believes he truly is feeling nervous, years ago he’d be flirting with her nonstop, nowadays he’s seem to slow, almost give up with the social interaction of the opposite gender. 

Dean puts the passports back in Cas’ coat pocket himself, smiling small at him. Cas sees the girls expression change, drops almost with a sort of realisation. Not quite understanding Cas thanks her then follows Dean through towards the plane. 

They head through the tunnel attached onto the plane, a small que builds up nearer the door due to people trying to find their seats slowly. 

They stop, Dean leans against the rail, his leg bouncing ever so slightly.

“You’re more nervous than I thought, Dean. I didn’t realise you were this scared of flying.” Cas interjects.

Dean stops for a moment and stares at him, “You’re scared of falling, aren’t you?” Dean comes back, continuing with a solid look.

“Dean.” Cas deeply says, the name rolling off of his tongue, his tilts his head slightly and opens his eyes, encouraging, looking deep into him, as if trying to get him to open up. 

“Cas.” Dean says shortly as they start moving forward in the que. 

Cas let’s out a soft grunt of annoyance causing Dean to side eye back. 

“I’m fine, Cas.” He says as Cas catches up, showing another stewardess their tickets so she can direct them to their seats. 

They make their way through the narrow aisle, seeming to take it all up by just standing tall. Counting the rows they finally find their seats and Dean moves past it a little to let Cas sit down first, just so he can have the window seat. Dean knew Cas wouldn’t sleep nor need to use the toilet therefore if Dean did he wouldn’t have to constantly climb over him so it would be making life easier. 

They sit and straight away Dean falls his head to the back of seat, eyes clamped shut, body rigid.

With Deans eye still closed he hears Cas click his seatbelt on and someone quietly and carefully sit down next to him. A whiff of perfume hovers under his nose, he guesses its a petit woman, he doesn’t open his eyes to check. 

“Dean.” Cas whispers.

“I’ll do it in a minute.” Dean answers back, eyes still shut. 

Dean knows he’s talking about his seatbelt and as he smells another new scent swift past him as the owner comes to a halt in the aisle he hears Cas order some more alcohol, assuming to help Dean forget they’re flying. No wonder he doesn’t like flying after what had happened last time. 

Without realising nor feeling he hears his own seatbelt click to a lock and lifts his arms up gradually to help Cas do it up for him. He whispers a small ‘thank you’ then tries to picture he’s back in the bunker in his room, headphones on, ‘Carry on my wayward son’ by Kansas playing full volume on speaker, burger and beer in hand, no worry in the world.

“When was the last time you flew?” He hears Cas ask and after a split moment he’s back into reality.

“About 15years ago almost.” He answers, eyes still glued shut. 

“What happened?”

Head still tilted back, chin lifted up, he turns towards Cas’ direction, eyes pinging open, “demons, Cas, demons happened.” 

Cas doesn’t say anything, just goes and looks back out of the window. Dean slowly closes his eyes again putting his head back trying to relax. 

“Nervous flyer?” A new voice chimes in, a voice belonging to what sounds like an older woman that sits next to Dean. 

Dean hears Cas shuffle towards their direction, Dean hopes if he doesn’t answer maybe Cas will give a blunt reply and she’ll ignore them. 

“Yes he his.” He hears Cas say as he unexpectedly feels a hand place down on his inner thigh. Dean tenses, breathing hitched, more rigid now than before, eyes still closed. Why is Cas’s hand on his lap? And why is he not pushing it off? 

Deans eyes flick to a open to see the woman sat next to him smiling sympathetic towards them with Cas politely smiling back at her. His eyes catch Dean and a flash of panic swipe across, he gingerly starts to remove his hand, believing if he moves slow enough Dean would have never remembered he had put it there in the first place. 

Honestly he’d just thought it would be comforting in the moment as he politely leaned across to answer the lady’s question. But once he felt Dean tense more than before he started believing maybe it wasn’t a decent idea. Until he didn’t react, or scream or shout at him.

Dean looks calmly towards Cas, deeper into his eyes, just at him as he grabs Cas’ wrist placing it back to where it once was. Cas hollows a confused look as Dean lightly licks his bottom lip allowing his eyes to close shutting Cas’ look away, his body melts into the chair as he starts to relax a bit more. Cas shuffles closer allowing his hand to rest lightly on Deans leg, they know the woman next to them is no longer looking. 

Relaxing, comfortable and safe that now not only can he sense that Cas is next to him but he can feel him too. His eyes seem to melt into his head that becomes light, his body seems to drop and he feels his head snap down onto Cas’ shoulder and he falls into a deep, deep sleep. 

A sudden jolt causes Deans eyes to open abruptly in a panic, Cas snaps towards his direction placing his hand deeper and unconsciously sliding hand higher up his leg. Dean without realising where Cas’s hand is near yet settles back down into the chair, he clicks his neck and stretches his achey back as he looks out of the window. It’s dark outside.

Cas still looking at him a little concern wiping across his face.

“Did I fall asleep?” Dean asks, rubbing his eyes stretching his legs out a little, honestly feeling a little tight.

“Yes. For most of the flight actually.” Cas replies. 

“Wow. That’s a first. How long until we land?” 

“The voice says about 45minutes.”

“Voice?” Dean groggily asks. “Oh pilot.”

“Dean, when was the last time you slept that long?” 

“I don’t even know, man. But sure felt good.” He gives off a lazy smile, lingering on Cas for a little longer than anticipated, talking about ‘feeling good’ he wandered his eyes down to where Cas’ hand was before he fell asleep.

He becomes a little flustered once he noticed that he had kept it there and that it had traveled a little higher. 

_ That explains the tighter feeling.  _

Panicked, Dean unclips his seatbelt and jumps up, banging his head just on the half ceiling of the plane, cursing ‘fuck’ in doing so. He notices the liquor that he had Cas order from earlier still on the tray in front of him, so grabs that and downs it, awkwardly trying not to look back towards Cas, who he knows will just have a more confused expression on his face to why he’s had a mini outburst. 

He doesn’t say anything but excuses himself past the lady that was sat aside of him and makes his way to the toilet. 

He makes his way inside, locking himself him and leaning against the door behind him. 

Heat rising a little through to his neck, flustered, panting a little for breath. 

“C’mon man, he’s your best friend.” Deans fingers grasp around his belt loops, desperately trying to thinking of anything now other than Cas, as apparently that’s just winding him up. “It’s not been that long that the thought of Cas makes you hard.” 

What was he thinking? Yet truth be told, it really _had_ been that long . He’d been a little busy with the whole ‘God thing’ to even think about sex with anyone. 

He closes his eyes tight, teeth taking his lower lip in a secure grasp. His palm pushing into his lower abdomen trying to feel anything other the growing of down below, to take his mind off of it.

He grunts as his palm find his crotch. Head pushing back against the door, feeling rushing up through into his stomach, pleasure and torment building up. 

Okay so he maybe he was  starting to have a wet dream about Cas. 

“Fuck.. stop thinking about Cas.” Dean warns himself, his hand a mind of its own pressing deeper, trying to relieve more pressure, pleasure, feeling, causing Dean to drop his breath and buck his hips back. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-k.” He hisses. “I’m really fucking hoping he can’t hear me.”

Dean doesn’t quite know why he’s saying any of this out loud, apparently this is what more than 4 hours sleep gets him, ironically makes him go insane and talk to himself. 

But as if on que, due to the longing most likely, Dean practically begging (praying, begging they’re basically the same thing in Deans eyes) of course Dean would be stupid enough to believe Cas wouldn’t hear him. 

There’s a knock on the door. “Dean?”

He always has his ears on for Dean Winchester. 

“Fuck!” Dean curses. Body numb reacting to the way Cas calls his name. “Cas..”

He plays, so wanting him to hear his name being said by Cas once more.

“Dean?” Cas repeats, deeper, more stern, hint of worry in his voice. “Are you okay?” 

Sharply he straightens himself up, slapping himself, switching on the tap and splashing water over his face. 

_Think ghosts. Think vampires.. wait no not vampires because of Benny.. think werewolves. Wendigos. Just basically everything motherfucking ugly asshat we’ve ever taken out._

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just bit groggy that’s all.” Dean starts, trying to compose himself. “Obviously my body is reacting differently to me actually getting enough sleep, must’ve thought I was in a coma as I was asleep for that long.” Dean awkwardly tries to joke through the door.

He prays that Cas won’t bring up any form of longing or dream or thought that he most likely has heard throughout the last over 10hours that he was out of it. 

_ Oh shit I’m hoping I didn’t call his name aloud when I was asleep!  _ Dean mentally cringes at the embarrassing intrusive thought. 

“Dean, you called my name when you were sleeping.” Cas says through the door.

_ Fucking knew it.  _

“Um, sorry Cas. Was dreaming. You, me and Sam were hunting. You got hurt. Must’ve been calling out for you I suppose.” Dean lies as he hesitantly opens the cabin door to Cas simply saying ‘oh’. 

Dean loosely half smiles at him, wiping the corners of his mouth. 

Considering the Angel had been sat probably in the position for over 10hours he looks the same, no messy hair, the brightness still shining to his skin, clothes still neat as they were and his eyes never dulling away from the ocean blue. 

They begin to walk back to their seats, shoulder to shoulder. 

“The lady next to you kept asking how long have we been together but I didn’t quite understand her question.” Cas coughs out causing Dean to loose footing for a moment.

He huffs awkwardly, “and what did you tell her?” Dean fights back a smirk, finding it a little random yet somehow amusing. 

“12 years.” Cas had been in Deans life for a pretty long time now honestly. “What did she mean by  _together_ ?”

“She meant like married together, like boyfriends, like in love together.” 

“But why did she think we are married? We share no rings.”

“Because, Cas, even with no ring other people can tell if two people are  involved  by how they act around each other and you’re a nerdy little angel with no concept of personal space with your hand on my inner thigh the entire plane ride.”

“But you seemed okay with that.” 

Dean stops, sighs turns to Cas, begins to open his mouth yet no words seem to fall, no excuse nor reason other than he can actually only agree with Cas on that. He did like it. There was comfort to it. A safeness. Security in a sense.

“Just never tell Sam.” Dean steps into him hovering. Then slowly back a couple to let Cas slid into their seats to place back down. 

They both look out the window, Deans soft breath tickling Cas’ neck, he doesn’t mind though. 

The lights down on the Island twinkles as they plane makes its way lower and lower gradually descending down towards London. 

“Did you spend all that time looking out of this window?” Dean asks Cas.

“Pretty much.” Cas answers continuing to stare down through the glass.

Truth be told he used up half of that time to watch over Dean too. Force of habit he supposed. 

“Anything on Remph?” 

“Nothing other than the word Avebury over and over.”    
  


They soon touch down, and Dean gets ready to call Sam to see if he’s found anything. He looks back at Cas once more, they’re on dry land now. The flight was over. Even with getting out of Hell the first time, even with flying through time, even with flying around the country being carried by an Angel Dean will always prefer flying with that _one_ angel.


	3. You and your signals

The train ride out of London is quiet. Dean and Cas barely say anything to each other. Although. it’s not so much as an awkward silence, more like a ‘oh you’re here with me and that’s nice’ silence. 

Truth be told, even though he’d slept the entire plane journey, Dean was still exhausted. Something mentally draining about the changing of transport and having no clue where they were in fact going. Plus the internal panic of flying, being this brave, hero-type, ‘I fight monsters and not afraid of a thing’ persona, not wanting to let off to Cas,  _an actual Angel_ ,  a solider of the lord, a warrior, quite literally not scared of a thing, Dean couldn’t possibly be vulnerable around Castiel. 

He had called Sam once they got off the plane walking through the airport. Told him about Avebury to which Sam came back quickly explaining where they needed to head towards and what train to get. 

He also explained that Avebury henge was a village in the middle of a circle of basically rocks and that in fact he’d found notes that the Men of Letters did have a secret bunker there too. 

The stones had Pagan traditions to them and believed that Witches had something to do with that also.

Cas chimes in with no one knows how these rocks appeared and Christians believe it’s something to do with the Devil’s work, an uproar had occurred however now they’re a landmark, a tourist attraction really. 

Sam, on the other end comments that he thinks it’s just the supernatural and British Men of Letters honestly. 

Dean had thanked Sam and hung up telling him he’d text when they get there and into the villages’ B&B that Sam managed to message ahead on behalf of them and get them a room. 

The train journey was just under 3hours and Dean had let Cas take the window seat once more. Honestly he didn’t mind looking out over Cas’s shoulder. 

Their cabin and aisle is a lot smaller and more snug than the planes, only seating the two of them. And both of them being around 6ft, they didn’t have an awful lot of leg room. Every now and again Dean would shift and squirm a little trying to stretch his legs always drawing Cas’ attention his way. He’d look at Dean for a moment not saying anything then carry on watching the stars fly by outside. 

Dean never once looked at him until he turned away again, he often wondered if the angel did miss his wings. 

He mind does often trail off down the route of he can’t help but wonder where Cas would be if he never met the Winchesters. If he never pulled Dean from hell, if none of this ever happened over 12years ago.

Would the Angels have fallen? Would Cas still have his wings? Would he be hunted? Would he have rebelled? 

Selfish he knows, but his mind follows into another path, one where Cas is always there, one way or another and he honestly thinks he will always be. He can’t see it any other way. He doesn’t want to see it any other way. He honestly needs him here. He  _ wants  _ him here.

At this point Cas looks up at him, dewy eyes, chin resting delicately wrapped around by his fingers, brushing against his lips to which Dean can’t help but have his eyes flicker down, almost in a force of habit way. 

Dean smiles timidly, looking down then at his lap, he does then often wonder if Cas can read/hear more than he lets off, worried realising Dean does end up letting his mind slip into thinking about Cas  _a lot._ He doesn’t stop it, he succumbs into thinking about his bestfriend in more ways than he admits is normal, let’s it flow in, although he tries so hard to push any thoughts, intrusive or good to the back of his mind. He fears he will let his longing, need, prayer or thought get too loud and Cas will end up actually knowing what Dean is thinking there and then. 

Cas shuffles, still looking out of the window, his other hand resting on his own knee that is in fact closest to Dean. Cas spreads apart his legs a tiny bit, just so his body doesn’t cramp up, his expression staying natural as his leg presses contact into Deans. A jolt flies up Deans left side of his body as he shots a look down, then back up at Cas knowing full well he knows he’s looking, he can see it out of the corner of his eye, but Cas never looks. 

He often does this, small gestures, that probably don’t mean a thing, due to the fact he’s always seemed to have a problem with personal space that is, yet Dean can’t help but read into it at times, the small, subtle touches, the glances, the flashes down at the lips, the brushing past of fingers or even lingering their bodies too close to one another for a longer period of time. Maybe Cas just doesn’t know he’s doing it. 

Dean shifts so he leans into the touch evermore, their hips quite literally joining. 

If Cas is actually sending a message, this is how Dean is answering. 

Dean tilts his head back, releasing a sigh in doing so, hesitatingly, slowly, sliding his foot gentle around Cas’s. Bravely, almost for comfort. Cas doesn’t end up pushing away as he locks their ankles together. 

Dean’s eyes still shut, not trying to sleep, just to be at peace— like this, in the moment. He feels Cas’s hand skip delicately over from his own knee now onto Deans. He seems to melt into the touch, feeling a little touch starved, almost on edge, he pushing his leg closer into Cas’s eagerly, biting his lip, head tilting more into the back of the chair, he hears Cas let out a short laugh, content, almost proud of what his hand crawling up the men’s leg is doing to him. 

Deans eyes, still closed yet he knows now Cas is watching him. He doesn’t seem to care where he is, nor really if anyone is actually watching them. He’s just trying to feel at peace with this moment, quiet and in bliss. 

Cas stops at his inner thigh, almost pawing at his leg, rubbing, massaging, tension building through Dean as he shifts now trying to cover up what is now beginning to grow. Heat creeping up towards his neck. Cas surely must know what he’s doing to him. 

Neither of them really seeming to care. Dean tries to turn towards Cas, without separating them apart, head still tilted, eyes still shut, lower lip still taken between his teeth. 

Within moments he feels the train drawing to a slow. 

“We’re here.” Cas says to him, voice husk and closer than he realised.

“Fuck.” Dean breaths out before quickly, almost panicked, jumping up out into the aisle, avoiding eye contact as he reaches up for the bags. 

Cas still sits, looking up at him. He watches Dean straighten himself out, ironically nothing really all that straight mentally nor physically about the man whatsoever, he pulls his pants a little lower, trying to release the tightness up top. 

Truth be told this has to be a regular occurrence. It had started with the simple, longing stare, the gentle brush of hands, the innocent comment and linger on the lips yet had lead to them getting all too cosy and comfortable in Dean’s man cave whilst watching movies, out of sight of Sam. 

Dean would quite literally force Cas to watch his favourite movies with him, Cas never declining, he had always secretly enjoyed some of the films but mainly watching Dean escape into the film world away from his exhausting reality. Watching the way his nose crinkles when he laughs, his eyes squinting ever so slightly and his freckles folding, his whole body folding and without thinking, in a single swept of motion he’s cling onto Cas’ shoulder. 

He enjoyed spending time with him truly. 

He was the one who changed him after all, made him feel things beyond angels’ orders. 

There were nights where Cas would find that Deans arm had wandered over to the back of his recliner, or he’d even found him trapes over the arm rest, half falling asleep on Cas to only get awoken by a text from Sam making Dean realise he’s found his way in a position where he’s seemed to let his guard down too far, afraid to be hit, and he’d run out of the room not say a word, leaving Cas sat confused to why he often gets like this. 

They exit the train and explore around to find their hire car for however long they are there. The drive isn’t too long between the train station and the Bed & Breakfast they’ll be staying at. 

Being a typical small British countryside village there’s only one place to stay really, too small to be a hotel or motel to what they’re used too. 

They get there in no time with the journey concluding with Dean getting used to the new car, driving on the opposite side of the road, moaning how the car isn’t Baby and listening to the news on the radio about this Corona virus. 

They park up, Cas being quiet. They walk into the picturesque large what seems to be an old farmhouse. 

More like a home rather than an establishment. 

The chill in the nights air floats behind them as they enter the warmly, homely building. An older couple guards behind the front desk greeting them with a kind smile. Quite clearly a married couple turning their large house into a business.  _ Oh to lead a simple life _ , Dean had thought.

Dean gives the name as the woman looks through her book. Looking up with a wide grin and the key. 

Dean yawns, looking away and around. The warm creams and woods crowd around the hall, masking together, they step on off-white tiles radiating heat from below giving the room an extra shine making the place look pretty fancy. Far better than some of the places they’ve stayed in. How Sam has managed to swing this place he does not know. Although could be due to the fact this is the only places to stay in the village and they do want to be close to see if Cas can get another reading from the Angel of Time. 

“You’ve got a lovely spacious room with a king sized bed, shower and bath, TV and a garden view with the stones in site too.” The lady at the desk tells them.

Dean squints at the mention of only one bed,  _damnit Sam, no one knows Cas doesn’t sleep,_ he thinks to himself opening his mouth to say something yet nothing but a yawn escapes.

Cas catches on, “it’s alright Dean, we won’t be sleeping much anyway.” He innocently says, not realising he’s making matters somewhat worse.

Dean doesn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. The couple before them shift uncomfortably, obviously an old fashioned couple at that, not looking too pleased of Cas’s comment (obviously not realising it’s because he’s an angel that doesn’t sleep and they have work to do not because they’re a gay couple having sex all night), a little homophobic at that. 

Dean had shared their same facial reaction at the start, mentally burying his head in his hands, before feeling a little defensive, who are they to judge them even if they’re not who they think. 

Dean squares his shoulders, taking the key with a smirk, feeling a little cocky, just wanting to play around, be a little snarky, make any comment he can think of to defend whatever it is he’s defending, but he doesn’t; he spins to Cas next to him, places both hands onto the angels shoulder and pushing him in front, towards the stairs. 

He rolls his eyes, letting out a small chuckle, thanking them politely as they awkwardly wish them a good night with fighting every urge to say ‘we sure will’ and wink at them. 

They head up the wooden stairs, creaking a little behind them.

Cas looks back and down at Dean, “what was that about? The atmosphere changed pretty quickly.”

Sometimes Cas is still the same old Cas. Never catching on, never truly being able to  _ read the room  _ nor understanding to the full extent of what he is actually opening his mouth to. 

Dean let’s out a soft laugh to himself, “they too, thought we were together. They were probably homophobic but not rude enough to say anything.” They climb, one step at a time, slowly, “we only have one bed and then you say that, no one knows you don’t sleep at all Cas, so they obviously assumed you and I would be staying up all night doing something else.”

“Like what?” Cas naively says.

At this point Dean does lets out a loud laugh. Honestly not even feeling embarrassed at this point, “sex, Cas. They thought you meant we’d be having sex.” 


	4. Here we go again

Dean unlocks their rooms door. His face lights up out of excitement when he sets his eyes on the space in front of him.

Soft, clean, beige carpets, old fashioned patterned drapes covering the windows looking out onto black fields, faint flickers of stars shining in the background, wooden furniture scattered around with a TV placed on top of a dresser at the end of the bed against the wall. The bed, obviously big enough to fit both Dean and Cas, yet Dean will have it all to himself, spread out, comfortable. There’s two armchairs matching the curtains pattern by the window, separated by a small coffee table supplying little packaged goods: coffees, tea, biscuits, mini chocolate etc. No mini bar but a coffee machine instead! 

Dean feels as if he’s been lifted out of the memories of the run down motels to be put into rooms of which he classed as luxury compared to what he’s used too. 

“I call the bed!” Dean playfully chants as he drops his bag, leaving Cas still standing in the door way. 

He runs and jumps onto the bed, feeling as if he’s just collapsed into a cloud, the soft cotton sheets caressing his achey body like a hug he’s never been embraced in. 

Cas rolls his eyes and soon follows him, locking the door behind them. 

“Dean, I don’t sleep, why would I need the bed?” He simply says, actually taking off his trench-coat, laying it on the back of one of the armchairs, leaving him in just his suit. 

Dean props himself up on his elbows, still lying down but looking up enough so he can watch Cas, he still always finds it strange to look upon Cas when he doesn’t wear his iconic trench-coat. It just suits him. It’s just him. He can’t imagine him without it  _ usually .  _

“Have you heard anything?” Dean asks as he sits up, moving to the end of the bed, the soft mattress bouncing with him as he shuffles.

Cas shakes his head as his takes off his blazer, propping it on the arm of the chair, Dean watches, swallows, eyes widen ever so slightly, almost mesmerised by the man that’s barely paying attention to him.

The room is warm, but he’s never actually watched Cas really take anything off. He’s imagine it,  _of course he has_. 

The way the top layers slide off his shoulders, how his shirt hugs onto his torso, snaking around his top half, defining his sculptured body, collar bone and neckline chiseled with his tie hanging down too. How Dean can imagine his body toned underneath, tracing his fingers along his muscle lines, firm. How he can’t understand that all those years ago the Angel Castiel took into a males body, a pretty, angelic face, that has now turned into Cas walking around with a body like a movie God.

“Dean?” Cas says, voice husk. 

Dean hasn’t realised he wasn’t paying attention. “Hmm?”

“Did you listen to a word I said?” Cas asked, a little annoyance in his voice, he proceeds to release and take off his tie, throwing it over his coat, undoing another of his shirts buttons. 

Dean slowly shakes his head, watching carefully as Cas continues to walk around the room, getting comfortable, checking things, sieving through the bags, unaware of Dean. 

He notices Dean finally staring, looks at him from across the room, a small confused look upon his face. “What? I do get hot, Dean.” Cas says as he continues trying to shift through the bag for the laptop. 

“Luckily for me.” Dean mutters under his breath not realising. Also not realising the man in front of him is of course not his brother and that of which is a celestial being that can hear a lot more than whisper under ones breath. 

Cas snaps his head up, eyebrows furrowed, confusion smothers his face as he finds the laptop, taking it over to the chair, shaking off the comment. He doesn’t get how his own temperature will affect Dean. 

“I was saying earlier that Angel radio is quiet, Sam nor Jack have heard anything from anyone nor any stories which could help. Although they have found some files of the British Men of Letters, so I was just going to see if I can find out anything on that.” Cas says as he sits down switching on the laptop. 

Dean opens his mouth to speak only to be replaced by a loud yawn causing Cas to look back his way, “I’ll help.” He stutters out as he sets up towards Cas.

“Dean, no.” Cas says softly.

“Why not?” Dean yawns again.

“You’re tired. Why don’t you get some rest. We’ll look tomorrow. We’re here now, so maybe I’ll hear something. Beside I’ll be researching all night, same with Sam and Jack, they’ve got a few more hours before they need to get their plane over here too.”

“I’m fine Cas, I can help. I basically slept all day on the plane anyway. I’m not that tired.” He yawns again.

Cas rolls his eyes, giving off a calm smile, “get some rest Dean. It’ll be jet-lag. I’ve got this from here anyway, I’ll use your help tomorrow.” 

Dean panders at him. Stubbornly fidgeting, not wanting to admit his body does feel exhausted. Even though he’s had the most sleep in years on that plane with Cas next to him. 

“Fine. But I’m having a shower first.” He gives in, inevitably, he does want to get into the bed as soon as possible.

“Okay.”

“That wasn’t an invitation by the way.” Dean shouts back as he heads towards the bathroom.

Cas let’s out a small chuckle, settling himself down again, “I know.” 

Dean closes the bathroom door behind him, his hand hovers over the bolt yet he doesn’t lock it. 

He switches on the water and gets undressed. He steps in. The water warm, travelling down his body, steam filling up the room. Coating the mirror opposite the shower. He stops; he stands still, letting the water trickle down his face, eyes shut letting the droplets hang on the edge of his eyelashes. 

He doesn’t like being this far away from Sam, he never likes being away from Sam. But at least it’s no Purgatory again. This time he knows he’s see Sam soon, very soon.

Although, with Cas here he does feel more at ease. Safer in a sense. More comfortable. He knows Cas is always watching. 

Even with going through Purgatory twice, Cas always seemed to give Dean a purpose, to keep going, to keep searching, in the end result of getting back to his brother. He never wanted to leave either of them behind.

Since they got out of Purgatory again so recently Dean has felt drawn to Cas ever so more. Maybe it’s due to the fact that he’d pushed him away for so long, blaming him with the whole Mary and Jack situation and he felt guilty, maybe it was something else. But that was one thing about Cas, he never gave up, he never gave up on Dean, he never gave up on them. 

Dean washes quickly then steps out of the shower, hair dripping wet droplets down his back. He wraps a towel around his lower half, after scruffily attempting to towel dry his hair. 

He opens the door back into the bedroom, the first initial step doesn’t cause Cas much attention causing Dean to feel a little disappointed. 

Something inside of him wanted Cas to see him dark haired, scruffy and wet with the light tips still highlighted from the lamps around the room, skin shining due to the water still lingering and him generally just walking around half naked. 

Just as Dean does feel the pinch of disappointment and the need for Cas’ attention Cas looks up, double taking. He stiffens, shoulder drawing back slightly. 

Dean fights the urge to smirk seeing Cas stare at him, rolling up his sleeves.

“It has gotten pretty hot in here hasn’t it?” Dean lets the smirk loose, call it flirting, whatever, he knows Cas won’t catch on.

And for the first time in a while they both feel as if the other has taken all the air for themselves, the atmosphere tighter than if someone else were in the room with them, somewhat of tension building, that time itself had stopped and they can stare at one another for what feels like hours. 

Cas couldn’t find any words, so he just nods.

He’s seen Deans body, but he’s seen it so vulnerable, so that he’s had to build it all together again, from the ground back up, all those years ago after dragging him from Hell.

Yet something right now is just making him stare solid, examining every detail, memorising it like a test. As if he’s never seen it before. As if he’s never laid eyes on Dean before. 

Initially, when he looks upon Dean, he sees his soul first and foremost, yet now, for what truly does feel like the first time— he’s seeing his body, deeply and conditionally.

He usually feels so confident, so normal around Dean, human in fact at times. That he can look, hug and touch him without any awkwardness that he or that he can sense Dean can feel. 

Dean is the first to break their contact, he straightens what was his tilted head back up as he turns and searches through his bag, throwing on a black t-shirt and some boxers under the towel. Cas’ posture drops back down momentarily.

“Found anything interesting?” Dean asks.

“Not in the five minutes you were gone.” Cas adds, a little snarky-ness lingering to his voice. 

Dean wanders over, stands behind Cas, his hand finding Cas’ shoulder, gripping onto it as he looks down at the laptop to see what Cas is reading. 

Cas looks back at him, Dean fixated on the screen. 

“Are you not going to put any pants on?” Cas asks, looking down then back up at Dean quickly gesturing at how he’s only wearing short, tight boxer briefs. Hugging around his thighs snuggly, the hem hanging off of his hips loosely. 

“Mhm, nah, too warm.” Dean shrugs still reading the screen, squeezing into Cas’ shoulder. 

Cas tightens into the touch, shifting in his seat a little, pinching his own pants away so he can discreetly cross his legs, one hand placed on his lap the other to the laptops mouse. 

“You’re a little tight Cas.” Dean smirks, teasingly almost, feeling almost a little more confident, braver, at ease with himself, with Cas. 

Also knowing that Sam nor Jack can walk in and disrupt them with whatever this is leading to. 

He gently places his other hand around the back on the chair onto Cas’ other shoulder slowly beginning to message, knitting small circles with his palms, rubbing tenderly with his fingers into Cas’ shoulders. Cas leans back into the touch, edging him on, his head tilts to the top of the chair, he lets out a small breath of a groan, tension in his body building elsewhere as he crosses his legs tighter. 

“Dean, go to bed.” Cas breaths out, as Dean stops kneading. 

Dean sighs but obliges, a flash of disappointment and a shy looks swipes across his face feeling like he’s being told off. But Cas gets up following up to him, Dean turns back to look at him, Cas now facing him taking one more step closer. 

Dean blinks, licking his lips out of habit. Cas so close to him he can feel heat radiate off of him. 

“Cas—“ Dean starts, breathing shallow as he feels Cas hands cling onto the hem of his t-shirt.

He looks down then quickly back up again now at the ocean filled eyes staring through into him, Cas reads him, like he’s reading a book as he takes half a step closer. He reads Deans body language: inviting and open, like he wants to be stepped into. 

Without thinking, yet without a shadow of doubt he knows what he’s doing. Dean pulls Cas’ wrists onto his own waist and hips before twisting his own arms around the mans neck pulling him in, crashing their lips together. 

Kissing him, softly, deeply, full of thirst. Their mouths moving in motion as they close the gap between them, pressing their torsos together, pulling each other in tightly, as if this is the only time they’ll ever get to be this close, this intimate. 

Their lips having a conversation without talking. Dean licks the bottom of Cas’ lip, taking his lip lightly through between his teeth, sending a small moan through to Cas’ mouth. 

Their tongues dancing, without music. Moving along with each other as if to music that’s no longer playing. Cas snakes his arms around Deans back as Dean fiddles his fingers in Cas’ hair, brushing it easily. 

They break for a moment to breath, untangling their bodies.

“Dean, when I said ‘go to bed’, I meant ‘get into bed’.” Cas says, a dominant tone to his rasp voice.

Dean blinks back, whilst his opened eyes send sparkles filled through of excitement flashing around, he fights back a childish grin, every fantasy he can remember having of Cas and him playing through his mind, letting all the images cloud his head that he’s fought back for so long. He’s always seen them as wrong, yet now accepting it as it’s Cas that’s initiating the start to this.

“Yes, sir.” Dean hungrily says, enjoying the power Cas has, the power Cas has always had over him a little too much. 


	5. Gods not watching

Cas kneels over Dean, pulling at his tie, tugging it off in slow motion. Dean lies back on the bed, an elbow propping him up, watching Cas edge closer to him as he unbuttons his shirt. 

Deans and his whole body aching for Cas, he knows Cas can hear through his thoughts like prayers, he know that all he can think about is  _ Cas, Cas, Cas  _ and how much he wants him, how much he  _ needs  _ him.

How he wants his bestfriend on top of him, touching him, kissing him,  _ inside of him _ . How he wants him to caress his skin gently, seductively, tormentingly. How he wants him to take over, to be in control, let their bodies move in sync like he knows they will. How he knows his own soul will mix with Cas’ grace in harmony, dancing in unison like they always were supposed to do. And how he wants to stare back into his ocean blue eyes, with stars flickering around reflecting off of the water, he wants to get lost staring back like he used to, like watching waves at the beach, his very own beach— in Cas. 

Cas smiles, looking down, a short laugh escapes his lips, and Dean knows how his mind is screaming for him and Castiel can hear every word, feel every grasp, every need, the feeling of lust that Dean feels. And Cas wants nothing more than to tell him, he’s thinking it too. 

“Calm down.” He shushes, knowing Dean is racing, begging for him, as he slips out of his shirt, reaching, kneeling in between Dean.

Deans body, stretching forward, edging, pulling closer towards Cas, legs spread out to allow him to sit in between, still over him. He copies Cas and pulls his top over his head as Cas seals their lips together once more. 

Deep in the kiss, lost in the moment, neither reaching for air just yet. Cas places his hand on Deans shoulder, where it once laid many moons ago, their first moment. 

“Shh, Dean.” Cas soothes, Deans mind still rapid, still begging Cas,  _for more._

“I’m not saying anything, Cas.” Dean says, a little out of breath, slight confused look crosses his face, dopey too, childlike, soft, innocent eyes looking up at Cas as Dean lowers himself onto his back, Cas completely on top of him now, their legs tangled together like two knotted ropes.

“You are up here.” Cas says as he places a soft kiss to Deans temple then works his way down to Deans neck, kissing softly, then deeper then sucking at his skin, tongue brushing every now and again.

Cas squeezes Deans shoulder tighter as Dean tilts his head back, giving Cas more room, spiralling circles, sucking away, like a vamp drawing blood. 

“You can hear that?” Dean says in between short breaths, focusing more on the pleasure Cas is causing build up rather than what he’s saying. 

Cas hums into Deans neck. 

“Fuck.” Dean breaths, almost slight embarrassed.

“Always, Dean.” Cas comes up to move up to his jawline.

“Fuck!” Dean thinks back to every time he could have ever possibly have had a dirty thought about Cas when he was standing right next to him, his eyes shoot open as he feels Cas smile, almost proudly into his neck. 

His eyes flicker back to a close, blissfully, when Cas moves his other hand teasingly down Deans side, brushing his bare skin. He begins to palm Deans crotch, pleasure pits in his stomach as he opens his legs more invitingly letting Cas press down on his body even more, closing any gaps between them, he begins to work faster as Dean feels himself become harder, feeling Cas even more too. 

“Fuck..” Dean blissfully says as he searches for Cas’ lips again, rejoining them whilst Cas undoes his belt taking off Deans pants before going back to him to take his own off too.

Just leaving one small, thin layer of fabric left between them. 

Cas grinds down, releasing a moment of tension, then slithers his hand Dean boxers, creeping his fingers around his shaft, pulsing slowly, delicately, thumb brushing the tip softly. Dean breathes deepening the kiss, hungry for more. 

He snakes his arms around Cas’ back, touching, feeling, grasping every defined muscle and curve. His fingers clutching down into his skin, as Cas moves his hand up and down faster and harder Deans grip deepening into Cas’ back. 

Deans hands wander down the back of Cas’ boxers, a finger sliding lazily in between his cheeks before cupping and massaging his ass. 

He lets his other hand travel upwards towards his shoulder blade. He stops, a rush of pleasure through a pulsate caused by Cas’ hand causes Deans hips to buck up into Cas. His hand opens, rubbing, palming, massaging now in between Cas’ shoulder blade, more towards his left side than right. 

Cas let’s out husky moan, pressing his hips down back into Dean, grinding, reacting to him putting pressure on a certain point in his back. 

“Cas, is this where your wings are?” Dean breaks the kiss for a moment, still continuing to massage, Cas continuing too. 

He looks up, staring hopeful at Cas. Blue eyes glistening towards him. Cas nods. Dean kisses him, short and sweet whilst bringing his other hand up to begin massaging where he believes Cas’ other wing is to be. 

Cas purrs with lust and excitement. And Dean can imagine what they’d look like spread out, open, like a peacock spreading its feather for his mating call. He imagines them black like the night, with coloured flashes roaming through. Almost like a midnight rainbow.

Cas’ head flings back, soft moans and deep breaths escaping as he arches his back, pining his hips down, grinding deeper into Dean, Cas and Deans hands move in union, together, same speed, same pressure, same pleasure but different parts of their bodies. 

“You like that, don’t you?” Dean whispers, a hint of playfulness lingering in his voice. 

Cas doesn’t react, just moves his hand up and down Deans dick harder and faster, tightening his grasp making Dean jerk his hips up suddenly. Dean answering by sponging down towards Cas’ wings. 

Dean watches Cas, his toned stomach working back to setting his body straight to where he was on top of Dean, and Dean can’t help but remove a hand from Cas’ back to trace down his chest through to his v-line, tugging at the hem of his boxers. Seeming mesmerised by Cas’ body not realising Cas was actually watching him too the whole time, watching his mouth agape to then taking his bottom lip between his teeth. His green eyes eating up the sight of his body, filled with lust and desire. 

Cas shuffles himself, moving down Deans body like on a slide at a playground. He leaves a trail of kisses as he works himself south towards his waist. Stopping to help Dean peel off his boxers. 

Within a flash the briefs are on the floor to reveal Deans throbbing cock. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean sniggers as he can no longer reach Cas’ back but he watches the man take his member in his mouth whole, swiping his tongue over the tip and working it in and out, lubing it up. 

Deans head flies back, eyes closing freely, hips pushing steadily, along with Cas’ movement. 

Cas paws at Deans hips, stilling them, holding him down, Dean fights him of course, letting out a moan in ease. Cas’ tongue wrapping around, almost kissing. 

“How are you so good at this?” Dean makes out, not truly meaning to say it out loud. And Cas knows Deans thinking  _ it makes no sense for a Angel that’s only ever had sex once, and with a chick to be this good at sucking dick! _

Cas rolls his eyes, fingers digging into Deans hips, leaving a mark like he once did before on his shoulder, he begins to work faster, taking Dean in deeper. Truth be told Cas has heard Deans longing for him too many times. Dean could get  _carried away_ in details or form of a memory or just overall imagination. Cas has heard him describe such acts through the  _ prayers _ he doesn’t realise he’s sending. Cas likes to believe he’s had a good teacher, without Dean knowing of course. But right now he lets his  _ vessel _ move and do the work, believing that Dean is guiding him too. 

“Cas, come here.” Dean begs, eyes opening lazily. 

Cas serves, removing his mouth from Deans cock with a pop, licking softly as he pulls out, pre-come following him in doing so. 

Dean sits up, pulling Cas back into making-out. Deans hands: one on his neck, one cupping his face. Whereas Cas swings his arms both around Deans neck, hanging loosely. Cas sits into Deans lap, grinding down, Dean joining him into the movement, crashing together like waves to their ocean. 

“Take your boxers off, Cas.” Dean pleads between kisses.

Dean works his way to Cas’ jawline then down onto his neck, sucking at a particular spot, attempting to create a hickey. Gently gnawing then kissing over it. 

“Oh, so now you’re in charge?” Cas smirks knowing full well Dean is loving the attention, having Cas do all the work, being underneath.

“Castiel, take your damn boxers off.” Dean says deeply, trying to be intimidating, yet all Cas can think of is how beautiful he looks looking up through his eyelashes, green staring back at him, like grass to a meadow, dew drops setting down, reflecting off of the morning sun shining the most gorgeous, vibrant colour. 

Cas does as he’s told, that seems to be a recurring thing with Dean. He wriggles out of his boxers throwing them halfway across the room. He works his hand up Deans face, closing together two fingers point them towards his mouth suggestively. Dean looks up at him, doll eyed, nods, taking in Cas’ fingers to his mouth, wetting them up, a pang of nerves sits in his stomach— he hasn’t done this in a while. 

_ But it’s Cas. _

Dean traces his hand down Cas’ body, touching gently as he makes his way to Cas’ own dick, setting him ready. 

He starts pumping, pulsating, Cas let’s out a hiss through his teeth. Dean kisses him again as Cas removes his own fingers, making his way down to Deans ass, spiralling circles then entering into him, slowly, one finger at a time, opening him up, prepping him. 

They both work faster on each other building up, yet hanging on until the right moment. Cas smoothly lies Dean on his back, lips never disconnecting. 

“I want you, Cas.” Dean moans into Cas’ mouth. “I need you.” He begs. 

Cas wanting,  _ needing  _ to hear those words aloud for so long now. 

With that Dean opens his legs invitingly, lifting his hips. 

Cas slots himself in, a little tight but begins to work slowly, friction building as Dean tenses then relaxes, clenching, squeezing every other thrust gently. They work and move together, like they’ve always been best at. Deans hips working alongside Cas in motion. 

Cas grunts and Dean moans as they both close their eyes, savouring the moment, the pleasure building, rushing up. Contentment, pure bliss. Forgetting for a moment what they’re really there for, for all they can see, hear, feel is each other. 

How they  _ truly _ want it to just be. 

Dean begs for more, Cas presses deeper into him as Dean wraps his legs around the other man, pulling him closer, as close as possible. 

Cas grabs at Deans hips, once again keeping them still, Dean groaning at the force, squirming with excitement, the pleasure causing him to wriggle around. Cas enjoying the form of control he has over the man he’s inside of. 

He opens his eyes to enjoy the view of Dean worming around his touch, back arching as Cas knows he’s hit the right spot, continuing there. Deans lower lip taken in between his teeth forcefully. Cas travels his hand to Deans face, cupping it, brushing his thumb over Deans lip making him release before not realising his own strength and draws blood. Dean clamps his eyes tighter as he pushes his face into Cas’ hand, feeling protected by his control. 

Cas watches as Dean works down to grip his hand around his own member, moving, thrusting to the same beat of how Cas is moving in and out of him. 

His hips buck up causing Cas to let out a moan, Dean starts working himself harder and faster, almost begging Cas to keep up too. He does and he knows they’re both close. 

Cas’ thumb traces gently around Deans cheek, Dean nuzzling into his hand, feeling almost touch starved, that every grasp, every thrust, every thirst filled look and caress is making up for a lifetime of trying to feel something, anything pure that was just being replaced by unrequited pleasure. 

“Fuck, Cas.. I—“ Dean moans out, wrapping his legs tighter feeling every movement that Cas is making, inside and outside of him. 

The power,  _ his power _ , although failing, still radiates off of him, he feels a blueish light hit his face, causing him to open his eyes. 

Deans on the edge and he knows Cas is about to roll off too. But the sight of Cas on top of him, broad shouldered, dynamic and impressive in a way sends him closer evermore. 

It all happens so quickly yet for a strange sense feels like time around them comes to a sudden halt. Everything stopping but them.

Their moans erotic, almost calling out to each other for more. 

A light hits the back wall behind Cas, his eyes glow with a alluring blue light and shadows of broken wings span among the space behind him. The lights scattered around the room begin to smash one at a time caused by what they can only assume is Cas getting so carried away his power sprung from him due to excitement, letting loose. 

Neither of them paying attention to how everything glowing in a bright blue and soft yellow light turns over, flies around, over them, behind them, next to them. 

Feeling like there’s some kind of forcefield Cas is creating around them. Their own bubble, protecting them from  _everything_.

As if time is escaping but all they have is this moment, forever, finally the two of them, this close, this intimate, inside, as one. The Sword and the Shield. Protecting, fighting, battling together. 

Cas finishes first inside Dean, not pulling out, letting warmth fill Dean from inside causing him to cum not long after, his hand still slowly moving up and down his throbbing, aching cock, bashfully. He let himself spill all up his stomach, but he doesn’t care. Yes, it’s been a while and honestly he’s pretty surprised he even lasted that long. 

He doesn’t feel vulnerable nor played nor embarrassed about how he looked or sounded during them having sex, not truly caring that he’s an Angel in a male vessel, he let his guard down, truly existing to the moment, because it’s Cas. And he’d always feel defenceless around Cas. But that was a good thing. And he was okay about that. 

They pant, Cas pulls out and Dean lets his arm flop to his side, softly onto the bed. Cas falls down aside Dean, onto his side facing him but looking around the room in concern. Focusing mainly at the clock on the wall.

Dean, still panting, looks up at the ceiling, a grin smuggling onto his face, “is that a party trick of yours? Wings and all?” He jokes, turning to face Cas who averts his distractions to face Dean, softly getting lost in his eyes for a moment. 

It’s a good couple of seconds of both of them gazing into one enough, breathing patterns mimicking, Dean brushing his hand down Cas’ thigh and Cas caressing Deans shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to get that carried away.” Cas looks away for a moment.

“I’m glad you did.” Dean whispers. “We’ll clear up our mess tomorrow.” He reassures, starting in the room, moving on to the World outside.


	6. When the clock stops at Two

They laid there until Dean drifted off to sleep.

Whispering to each other, mainly sleepy dreams of what life will be like once they defeat God. Where they want to go, what they want to do. The nonsense dreams that you spill in the vulnerability stage before sleep clasps you into it’s clutches. 

Dean asking the inevitable, if Cas will stick around or go back up and try fix things in Heaven. Cas doesn’t know the answer. That’s to be decided for another day.

Luckily Dean drifts to sleep before Cas can speak his prolonged answer to that question. 

He stays there for a moment, watching the man sleep. Like he’s done countless of times before, but it’s different this time. More up close, more personal. 

However, Dean is so exposed, so vulnerable, yet he feels so protected with Cas’ presence, Cas knows this, the security, the safety net of him, he does truly feel like a Guardian Angel to the other. 

He sees the innocence in the man before all that he’s been dragged through. He sees the peace and the charm inside of him still. He still sees the purity through Deans eyes, reading his soul so easily, so effortlessly, his soul never ageing since the moment they met, like Cas corrupted it to a stand still. Maybe it’s because he truly has touched every part of Dean, rebuilding him perfectly, so he feels as if he’s moving slowly with it, with him. 

Cas always saw Deans eyes as his TV— that he could tell and understand Deans thoughts so easily. That he could watch all that Dean was, and all that he will be, changing for the good and the bad. All that he wants and all that he needs. 

Cas often stops just to watch Dean, when he thinks he’s not looking and he when he knows he knows. Time seems to work different with Cas, maybe due to the fact he’s millions of years old, yet sometimes Cas believes it truly is something to do with Dean. That he believes he can fully live and appreciate the moment when he’s with Dean, at that present time, nothing seems to matter.

Cas watches him when he’s laying peacefully with his weary head resting on his pillow, calm and any form of contentment that Dean will ever get. Then he wakes up, battling through his day just to end it with a couple hours of sleep once more, repeating with Cas watching back over him. 

He watches him too from the back of baby, as Dean nods his head along to the radio, tapping the steering wheel in rhythm to the music. Rolling his eyes as the brothers bicker but smiling softly when Dean gives Sam that goofy grin when the younger hunter finally realises his older brother is right. 

He watches him when they’re on the road, in a diner or bar, Dean consuming alcohol or some fatty food filling him full, only to see that spark in his eye when Cas hands over  his  meal. Even when Dean was mad at Cas or rarely vis-versa, Cas would always make sure he’d order Dean’s second choice of meal when he couldn’t make up his mind, it had become habit and Cas was certain that Dean never realised he was doing it, he just enjoyed watching Dean’s reaction when he realised he can have two of his cravings. That was contentment on Castiel’s half. 

He’d watched and felt like he’d studied Dean long and hard enough that even when Dean was gone he’d remember every detail of his attire. He’d always remember and watch Dean, even if Dean never noticed Cas in any other way than the  _ Angel on his shoulder.  _ Or just his  _bestfriend_.

But that was where Cas was wrong, Dean would often find himself looking back at Cas, always too late, yet everting his gaze long enough to truly see how long Cas would hold his. 

Unlike Cas, Dean would look little but often. 

Careful not to hold it for too long incase anyone saw, but often enough to keep checking Cas was really there, that his wings hadn’t magically starting working and he flew away, away from him. 

Maybe that was why he didn’t look for long, he didn’t want to actually see Cas leave. 

But he does watch him, more than he realises, more than Cas realises. 

For he doesn’t look at him as if he were the sun, because he’d imagine his true form would just be as bright, he’d shine an unimaginable glow, forcing him to look away, too much to bare, just existing, too much for his eyes to cope if he held that gaze of his for far too long. 

For he looked at him as if he were the moon, fascinated by the amount of possibilities beamed from it, the small beacon of light illuminating the dark night, showing  him  the way; never ending, he could stare forever, willing to howl, his aura captivating him in. Asking, nay, telling him to look upon— into it. 

And he wished he could hold his stare for just a little while longer. 

The rest of the night had past fairly quickly, Cas was pretty unsure of what to do with himself at times, he was comfortable next to Dean, with every now and again he’d twitch or mutter something in his sleep. He didn’t toss or turn too much. 

When the sun began to rise Cas delicately removed himself from under an arms clutches, wriggling away from Deans embrace, wandering over to the chair by the window. 

He opened up the laptop and unlocking his phone just searching for anything, any messages, any leads, any news of well  _anything_. 

The room was still fairly warm, clamming in a way. Possibly due to it getting a bit heated last night, so Cas sat there in his boxers, eyes fixated on the screen, barely realising the sun had risen and so had Dean. 

“Morning, sunshine.” Dean groggily says, rubbing his eyes looking towards Cas.

Cas snaps alertly towards him at the unexpected (for him) voice, he was so tuned in to the devices and seeking for Angel radio he didn’t realise the time.

His face softens when he sets eyes on Dean. His dirty blond hair scruffily sticking up at places and traipsing towards his face at other parts, the sheets sitting on his lap revealing his bare torso, a grin slithering across his face but his eyes hastily staying open as he shakes his head, in attempt to officially wake himself up. 

Dean looks around the messy room, only just noticing it, a slight look of awe playing on his face. “Woah, what did you do?” 

Cas looks around too from where he’s sitting next to the bed, in all honesty, he was a little worried how Dean would react when he woke up. He didn’t want things to be awkward. 

But the snarkiness in his comment washing a sense of relief over Cas in the moment. 

“Damn, I didn’t think I was  _ that  _ good.” Dean sniggers, looking back towards Cas sending him a quick wink, running a hand through his hair.

Cas smirks, a small laugh escapes his lips as he rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he brings himself to stare back at the screen, scrolling. 

He hears Dean shift in the bed sheets aside him but doesn’t look. 

“You know that’s the least amount of clothes I’ve ever seen you wear, Cas.” Dean comments getting out of the bed, not bothering to look for any pants or anything as he heads to the other side of the bed towards the bathroom. 

“I had less on last night, Dean. It’s hot in here anyway.” Cas finally looks back over to Dean, stopping typing. 

“Yeah I know, like someone forgot to turn off the heating.” Dean turns back, shrugging. 

Neither of them paying a second thought to it, England can get a bit chilly at times, maybe the owners like extra toasty-warm rooms. 

Dean walks into the bathroom switching on the shower. “So have you heard or read anything that could help us?” Dean calls a little louder over the stream from the bathroom. 

“Not sure. I believe I heard coordinates and I’ve been trying to find out where they are, I hope they will lead us to Remph.” Cas replies.

“Any luck?” Dean pokes his head around the door, looking at Cas. 

“The WiFi is a little slow, but from what has loaded we definitely are in the right place. I believe he’s located somewhere in the middle of the stone circle.”

“So, we just have to walk into the middle of the village.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“The middle of the stone circle and village is technically a field. But there are some small shops around it. Maybe he’s in one of those?”

“Or under them?”

“Seems likely.” 

Dean opens up his mouth to begin to say something but closes it as quick as he opened, even from across the room he searches Cas’ eyes that just stare back at him, waiting for him to say something next. 

When in reality he doesn’t want words to come out of his mouth, he wants his moans to. He doesn’t want to watch Cas opened eyed from across the room, he wants Cas’ eyes closed and his body, lips and face pressed against his. 

Dean swallows the lump building dryly in his throat as he lets his eyes wander up and down Cas’ body, placing his lower lip in between his teeth. 

He takes in the sight before him: tanned skin that the sun has gently kissed all over, muscles chiselled adoringly around his toned body, skin velvety soft even through the amount of wars and battles not a single scar lay upon. Grey boxers crinkle underneath his hips, sitting below his curves hiding his pleasurably sized dick amongst the fabric.  _ Thank God for Jimmy Novak’s parents for creating such a vessel. And thank God too— quite literally.  _

Cas somehow clogs on, squinting his eyes in a sense of confusion whilst tilting his head a fraction. Can he feel Deans desire from over there?

“Cas, come take a shower with me.” Dean breaks the wordless stares. A smouldering glance shooting his way. 

“Dean, I’m an Angel, I don’t need to shower.” Cas cluelessly points out, causing Dean to smirk with a huff of laughter pushing out, he looks down at the floor briefly.

“Cas. Come take a shower with me.” Dean repeats, slowly, hope playing in his looking up eyes as he steps out of the door way locking back onto Cas.

Realisation hits Castiel before he finds his own legs moving swiftly over to Dean in a matter of strides. 

Something about Deans attire and glare this morning sends a form of relaxation over Cas, as if he knows what he’s going, what he needs to do and where this is all leading. 

He’s watched humans from afar for millions of years yet the whole concept of sex is new to him. Although with Dean he feels as if he can let the man lead, that Dean manages to switch his body on and control it by using his own. 

Cas doesn’t complain of the sudden surge of affection, lust and neediness that washes over Dean this last 24 hours. After 12 years of pining, it’s well overdue. 

Maybe it’s the fact that finally, completely it’s just them. No Sam, no Jack, no Bobby nor Mary or anyone. They’re all too far away (whether on Earth or in Heaven) to catch them in the act. 

Or maybe it’s the feeling that they’re on borrowed time that has finally made Dean act on his urges. 

Either way, neither of them truly caring the reasoning at this point as Cas hastily crashes his lips down on Dean, pinning him half on the doorway, half on the wall. 

The kiss is hungry, powerful, passion lingering as Cas slithers his tongue along Deans bottom lip asking for entrance. To which Dean obeys allowing him in with a hint of a moan escaping his opening mouth. 

Cas pins his hips towards Dean— locking him in. Dean presses into his body as much as his can, leaving no space against them, his hands wander down towards Cas’ hips, grappling them into his own even more, as much as they can, wriggling steadily to support some friction. 

Cas removes a hand from Dean’s cheek, his stubble scratching his palm ever so slightly. He lowers it down to begin tugging at Dean’s boxers, trying to remove them best without putting a halt to this moment— the longing kiss, neither of them daring to reach up for air just yet. 

Dean grows, anticipation builds in his stomach and a eagerness lies in his pit causing him to pull Cas out of his boxers, impatient to the Angel that is just playing with the hem, teasingly.

Finally he jumps out of them. 

Skin on skin.

Cas’ hands both fix on Deans hips, moving pleasurably against him sending soft moans of arousal from each other in their mouths. 

They finally break for a breath from the lasting kiss to only have Cas make his way to Dean’s neck, sucking away like a common vamp. Moving down to his collar bone then back up to his jawline, raising red circles along the way. 

Dean tilts his head back giving Cas extra room as he finds his hands hugging around Cas’ lower back attempting to pull him in even closer, even though not possible. 

Cas’ hands snake up Dean’s body, gently, long fingers caress his skin so delicately sending goosebumps wild throughout his body as the tingle of a touch. The hands find their way to one ruffling in Dean’s hair and the other sitting behind his neck. 

“This isn’t the shower, Cas.” Dean makes out in between pleasurable sounds.

Cas just hums into his neck. 

Dean unties his arms around Cas’s back, hinting they should move to the originally planned destination.

Cas stares up at him, bright eyed as Dean places a small peck on his lips before leading him a couple of steps into the shower, closing the glass sliding panel door behind them.

It’s snug but big enough for them together. Although they know the majority of the time they’ll be pressed against one another. 

The steaming water hits their bodies sending pulses of warmth and pleasure throughout them. Their bodies now glistening as the water droplets slide down like glitter. Little dew drops sitting at the ends of their lashes batting off as they close their eyes, their lips meeting once more. 

Right now it’s just the feeling of the passion in the kiss— how the pleasure comes from the warmth of the water and them in unity, nothing else. Only their bodies together making them feel whole. 

After a couple of minutes of making out under the pouring shower, their backs tingling due to the water, wandering hands turn excited leading down south. 

Dean’s hands find Cas’ cock first, delicately wrapping around his shaft to start off with which then progress to Cas jolting on to Dean’s hips, pulling him in. His own hips swaying into Dean, fucking his hand. 

The water blocking them from seeing each other clearly but Cas knows Dean has a smirk playing on his lips as he breaks the kiss once more leaning back down to crook of his neck, pumping faster and deeper, with Dean letting him, grasp tighter each movement. 

Cas’ hands slither round Dean’s back ending cupping around his ass, hovering there, fingers brushing, teasing. 

His mouth trails lower then round to his shoulder almost leading his back, each kiss, each suck his fingers get closer around his edge then deeper inside him. Dean never letting go of Cas’ dick as he begins to pulsate quicker hinting Cas to do the same. 

Dean reaches an arm to steady himself against the wall, head flinging back allowing the hot water to trickle down his neck allowing more space to dribble down his throbbing cock too. 

Cas is basically by Dean’s side now, eyes still clammed shut, taking in and feeling all the pleasure building up. 

“Fuck.. Cas.” He softly moans. 

The feeling causing his toes to tingle and legs to become numb so much so that if he truly wasn’t paying attention he wouldn’t have even felt Cas spin him around and push him against the marbled shower wall. Chest against the cold stone, but back covered by Cas’s wet body, dick in between his checks as Cas begins creating hickeys along Dean’s back. 

Cas takes both of the hunters hands laying them flat against the wall, higher than his head. Cas knows what Dean wants next. He can feel the man wriggle beneath him, but the whole patience is a virtue thing and teasing is genuinely fun. 

He starts to hump in slowly, deep enough that Dean can feel yet not deep enough that he’s inside just yet. His tip playing around Dean’s rim causing him to beg and plead for more, for him, for it inside of him. 

Dean squirms as Cas finally slips in, the familiarity of each other from the night before. The tightness around Cas’ cock pulsates, friction building up between inside and between the two of them— like electricity. 

Dean climbs the wall as Cas thrusts in harder and deeper, a hollow, gurgled moan slipping from his lips. 

Their actions move within each other and Dean slips down the wall. 

They both last a little longer than the night before, however Cas’ lips never leaving Deans shoulder blade. Deans head tilted back leaning towards the Angel. Water pouring down his face eyes closed truly feeling the bliss— inside and out. 

Cas’ fingers dig into Deans side as they both finally cum. After a few moments of them stationary, panting, the water consuming them, they wash themselves and then head out. 

Cas is first to get dried and dressed, trying to hurry Dean as discreetly as possibly as he knows they’ve been  _ distracted  _ this morning and that Jack and Sam should be showing up any minute. 

Deans stomach grumbles as he rambles on about the all English breakfast he’s going to consume when they get downstairs. 

He then goes on to saying, after checking his phone, that he hasn’t heard from Sam yet but brushing it to a side of that they probably got waylaid and found something in the bunker and had to get a later flight. 

Cas begins to tidy up their room as he hears Dean rambling from the background. 

“Cas, can’t you leave that to the owners?” Dean shrugs putting on his flannel. 

“No Dean. It’s impolite and I can’t sit doing nothing whilst you get ready. Too much to do and think about.” Cas deeply says as he picks up a lamp. “Besides I made the mess, I should be the one to clear it. Are you nearly ready, we don’t want to miss breakfast.” 

Dean nods whilst throwing on his final layer, his jacket. “Well if you hadn’t fucked me so good that you stopped time we’d be alright.” Dean whispers harshly, barely realising it actually slipped his lips. 

Cas stares at him, head tilted. Dean points at the clock on the wall behind him. 

“Clocks stopped.” He tells, then looking down at his own watch. “Hey, so is mine.” He looks confused, jolts between the two time pieces then finally back up at Cas. “Dude, they’ve both stopped at exactly the same time.”

“Check your phone again.” Cas lifts up. 

Dean obeys quickly. Then shrugs, “no, that’s working fine, but no new messages. Only a worldwide news update from yesterday evening about a global pandemic warning caused by a virus, Chuck’s starting with the pestilence move then.” 

“Maybe Sam and Jack could be stuck hence why we haven’t heard from them.”

“Could be. It’s still early, they’ll be fine. And this virus news is probably nothing, talk in the wind, a God scare.” 

“Mmhm.”

“But anyway, let’s go eat!” Dean practically skips out their room, letting Cas lock the door behind him. 

They walk down the hallway, nowhere near as wide as the bunkers yet still spacious enough that they can both walk side by side. 

Cas stops, causing Dean to take back a little. He stares up at where Cas is fixating upon the wall— at the clock.

“What’s up?” Dean ask.

“The clock.” Cas points. “It’s stopped at the same time as the others.”

Dean rolls his eyes, continuing to walk towards the staircase, not looking back at Cas get he knows he’s following. 

“Cas, buddy, they’re just clocks that have happened to stop at the same time. Don’t think that much into it, it’s just a weird coincidence.” They reach downstairs, into the main lobby. “Here we go, this clock has stopped at Two.” Dean points out. 

“Well, that clearly shows that clock had stopped beforehand.” Cas retaliates, annoyance hindering his voice. “Do you reckon something has happened to Remph. He is the Angel of time after all.” 

“Cas, will you relax. You didn’t stop time, and I’m sure that Angel is fine too, like I said: it’s just a weird coincidence that all the clocks stopped at the same time here, that’s all.” Dean rolls his eyes, hands lifting onto his shoulders pushing him from behind out of the door into the dining room, a smirk playing towards a grumpier more concerned looking Castiel.

Somethings not right. 


End file.
